


Parental Guidance Advised

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Exhibitionism, Fooling Around, Hickeys, M/M, getting caught, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 04:22:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10846377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: Archie seems determined to get them caught.





	Parental Guidance Advised

**Author's Note:**

> [Prompt:](https://riverdale-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1356.html?replyto=100684) _Archie and Jughead are dating, but FP and Archie do not get along. Archie leaves obvious hickeys on Jughead/ gets them caught just to piss FP off._
> 
> I didn't delve so much into the whole FP & Archie don't get along part; I mostly just focused on Archie getting them caught all the time. Hope OP likes it!

“Ah! Archie, what the hell?”

Archie pulls back, cheeks pink. “My bad?”

Jughead glares. “Right, you seem really sorry.” He flicks Archie’s ear before hauling him in for another kiss. “Just take it easy on the hickies, would you?” He demands between wet kisses and hushed moans. “I have to see my dad tonight, he gets weird when I look like I just got mauled.”

Archie huffs a laugh against Jughead’s lips. “Sorry, sorry,” he says. He dives in for another series of long, heavy kisses and slowly works his way down Jughead’s neck again.

“Archie…” Jughead’s tone is a breathless warning; his fingers are knotted in Archie’s hair and his body is rolling in a way that contradicts the uncertainty in his words.

“They won’t be visible, promise.” Archie teases his fingertips across Jughead’s hips as he speaks—a dirty trick, one that has Jughead giving in immediately. Jughead melts against the bedsheets and lets Archie do as he pleases, including leaving several hickies just inside the collar of his shirt.

By the time Archie is suckling a deep red mark against the hinge of Jughead’s jaw, it’s far too late to stop him.

It’s worth it, even if Jughead gives him the cold shoulder until he has to go. He still kisses Archie goodbye, but he also flips Archie the bird as he walks toward FP’s car.

 

Jughead is grumbling angrily as he slips into Archie’s bed later that night. “You’re an asshole.”

Archie forces himself to focus. “What? Why?”

“You know why,” Jughead shoves at Archie until he makes room on the bed. “My dad gave me a lecture— _my_ dad, a _lecture_.” Jughead sighs and maneuvers around on the bed to get comfortable. He grabs Archie’s wrists and forcibly wraps himself in his boyfriend’s arms. “You’re a menace.”

Archie shrugs as he buries his face against Jughead’s neck. He falls asleep before he can even try to apologize again.

 

 

“Archie, stop it,” Jughead says as he kisses back, as his fingers roam across Archie’s shoulders just as greedily. “We can’t,” he hisses as Archie slots a leg between his thighs.

“You wanna stop?” Archie mutters as he finally pulls back. His lips are tingling and Jughead’s are red, kiss-sore.

“No, I don’t _want_ to stop,” Jughead snaps. “My dad is gonna be back any second.”

“We’ve got time.” Archie sweetly kisses Jughead’s cheeks, his nose, a chaste kiss laid across his lips.

“We really don’t,” Jughead counters as he rolls his hips against the pressure of Archie’s legs. “You’re the worst.” All the same, he gasps and pants and gets _this_ close to coming—Archie can tell—right up until the lock of the front door clicks.

 _Then_ Jughead shoves Archie off with an alarming amount of strength. Archie topples off the couch and ends up half under the cluttered coffee table; Jughead is still on the couch, but with a pillow drawn over his lap, hardly subtle.

By the time FP gets inside, Archie is laughing so hard his ribs hurt and Jughead is blushing right enough to burn. FP doesn’t lecture them, but the glare he shoots Archie as they leave speaks volumes enough.

 

 

“Archie, you should go.” Jughead still leans into his orbit, following the taste of his kiss. “I promised my dad I’d stay the night tonight.”

“I know,” Archie replies, soft and genuine. “It’s been a while since we slept apart, y’know?”

Jughead smiles. It’s a charmed look, something Archie doesn’t call out, because he knows Jughead would simply deny it. But he is—charmed, by Archie, by _this_. “I know,” Jughead agrees. “I’ll be back home tomorrow night.”

Archie feels warm through to the tips of his toes at the word. “Text me when I can come pick you up?”

“Course.” Jughead tilts his head and steals another kiss from Archie’s lips.

Archie finds Jughead’s hips before the kiss can break and licks into his mouth eagerly. Jughead’s noises of confusion are muffled and ultimately abandoned as he wraps his arms across Archie’s shoulders. They keep kissing until they’re both breathless and weak in the knees, half-hard in their jeans. Archie is seriously contemplating trying to convince Jughead to come home with him when the trailer door swings open.

FP doesn’t say anything. He leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed, and Jughead wriggles out of Archie’s grip immediately.

“Love you, I’ll text you later, okay?” Jughead grins briefly and sneaks one last sweet, chaste kiss. Then, he’s gone, ducked inside the trailer.

FP sneers.

“Night, Mr. Jones.”

Archie gets the door shut right in his face, and doesn’t mind one bit.

 

 

“A-ah—Archie!”

“Yeah?” He replies, absent. His attention is focused between them, where he’s gripping both their cocks tight. It’s wet and sloppy, but hot and so good. He’s got Jughead pushed against the bedroom wall, one of Jughead’s legs thrown around his waist and the other scrambling to stay planted on the floor. Jughead is clinging to him with a desperation he’s never show before.

“We have— _dinner_. Dinner is in ten minutes.”

Archie doesn’t ignore his boyfriend, exactly, so much as he doesn’t bother with responding. He tightens his grip and strokes faster. Each time he strokes up and the heads of their cocks glide together, he tears another cry from Jughead.

From downstairs, there’s the distant sound of the front door opening and closing. Then, the dulled voiced of Fred and FP talking. Then, FP calling up the stairs, “dinner is almost ready!”

“Archie, fuck, c’mon,” Jughead mutters while tilting his head to the side, leaving his neck and shoulder exposed for Archie to bite into. “I swear to god, if you leave another hickey—?”

Archie _does_ ignore those words. Instead, he bites hard where Jughead’s neck meets shoulder and sucks eagerly at the sweat-salt skin. He pulls back to admire his handwork, a deep red mark blooming across the mole-dotted skin.

Archie doesn’t miss the creak of the stairs, meaning someone is coming up. He shares a look with Jughead: smug versus panicked, electric versus annoyed.

“We need to—ah!” Jughead shouts as Archie breezes his teeth over the tender flesh. “Archie!”

“Juggie,” Archie replies softly, teasingly. “You close?”

Not so distant this time, FP calls out again. “Just about dinner time, you two coming down, or what?”

“You— _asshole_ —ah!” Jughead mutters as he comes suddenly. His back bows and he ruts into Archie’s fist. He’s vaguely aware of Archie coming, too, their spunk mingling on Archie’s fingers and the hems of their shirts.

They’re both breathing heavy when FP knocks on the bedroom door.

“Just a minute!” Jughead calls out, fooling absolutely no one. “Hang on!”

Archie doesn’t even mind that Jughead punches him on the shoulder as they redress; it’s worth it for the way FP mutters _“god fucking dammit”_ as he trudges back downstairs.


End file.
